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Jamal Collier, ESPN
ANTHONY EDWARDS GRIPS the seams of a football in his right hand and aims for a basketball hoop about 20 feet away. With a short stride forward on his left foot, he uncorks an easy spiral that sails toward the rim — he knows it’s going in from the moment he lets go.
“I don’t just be talking,” he yells, just before the ball swishes through the net. “I DON’T JUST BE MOTHERF—ING TALKING.”
Justin Jefferson laughs as he bounces a basketball up to the spot where Edwards made his shot. Wearing a black No. 5 Timberwolves jersey with black sweatpants, Jefferson takes a few high dribbles to collect himself. “Damn, I got to make it,” he says as Edwards talks trash in the background. There’s music blasting and dozens of people surrounding them, snapping photos and making videos on both cameras and phones. Yet, Jefferson and Edwards are locked in.
The two superstars are playing PIG against each other inside a massive warehouse and studio space in Minneapolis. It’s late August, a week before the NFL season kicks off and over a month before the NBA season begins. They’re here for an interview and photo shoot, recreating the image all Minnesota sports fans and beyond have been dying to see.
In 2000, Kevin Garnett and Randy Moss posed together for an issue of Sport magazine, wearing each other’s jerseys after Moss suggested the swap. The image still speaks to new generations. Now, two young, Black, ultratalented and charismatic showmen have taken over the Minnesota sports world once again. That’s why they want to honor the past while creating a new image to represent their own legacies in the Twin Cities.
It’s more than 30 minutes past the end of their photo shoot obligations, but they’re still trading buckets, laughs and trash talk. Edwards, a youth football phenom in Georgia, insists he can throw a football through the hoop more times than Jefferson, a former standout hooper in Louisiana, can knock down jump shots.
Edwards, wearing a pair of black Wolves basketball shorts and a purple No. 18 Vikings jersey that is too short for his torso, is winning the game. Now, Jefferson steps into a jump shot, his right arm extended in the air, posing for the follow-through. The ball sails through the net, and Jefferson’s head snaps toward Edwards. “Yeaaah. Yeaaah,” Jefferson says with a smile, nodding as the two come face-to-face for a moment, with Edwards left speechless.
It’s clear this is about more than just two friends playing PIG. It’s about proving something to each other. Edwards and Jefferson both grew up and went to college in the South, then got drafted to Minnesota in 2020 — Jefferson at No. 22 by the NFL’s Vikings, Edwards first overall by the NBA’s Wolves. Neither of them knew much about Minneapolis, except that it gets cold. Edwards and his friends would play Lil Yachty’s “Minnesota” in the lead-up to his draft — “Cause it get cold like Minnesota. Cold like Minnesota.”
As Jefferson, a Pro Bowl wide receiver, and Edwards, an All-Star shooting guard, rose to the top of their respective leagues, they formed a friendship and bond, signing huge contracts to spend their primes playing for two teams starved for championships. Edwards and Jefferson have emerged as Minnesota’s next bastion of hope, and together they aspire to be tied to this city for the long haul — but now the pressure is on to deliver more than highlights and thrills.
“I just want to bring a championship to Minnesota,” Jefferson says. “The people are too good here. The fan base is too good. It’s been a long time coming.”
“If I can, I’m trying to be here for my whole career,” Edwards says.
“I ain’t trying to go nowhere.”
If you were keeping score, Edwards wins the game. But they stopped keeping track of the rules a long time ago.
EDWARDS IS LATE arriving at the shoot because he is too consumed with getting revenge. Cam Newton, the 2015 NFL MVP, recently defeated him in Madden NFL 25, and Edwards couldn’t let it slide when his manager ribbed him for it.
“If he ever loses [at anything], he’s going to make sure that he practices and practices and practices until he’s ready to play you again,” said Justin Holland, Edwards’ longtime trainer and business manager. “And you probably won’t win.”
Edwards takes Madden very seriously. Even his most avid gamer friends and teammates who spoke to ESPN for this story avoid playing against him; he’s that intense. And so it was that Edwards challenged Newton online, right before the shoot. Edwards won 36-5. Finally, he arrives at the warehouse and daps up Jefferson in the dressing room.
For our interview, Jefferson sits on a leather brown two-seater couch while Edwards takes a sofa chair across the table from me. On a stand sitting next to them is a 24-by-24 photo of Garnett and Moss from Sport magazine. They will use it for reference later in the day when they recreate their own.
Like Garnett and Moss, both Edwards and Jefferson played the other’s sport growing up. Jefferson excelled at hoops as a kid, learning the game from his father and playing in the backyard with his two older brothers. Edwards first fell in love with football and played all over the field. It wasn’t until Edwards’ brother got good at basketball that Edwards decided he should start focusing on hoops to outdo his sibling.
When I ask him if he could’ve gone to the NFL, Edwards doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah, fasho.”
What stopped him?
“I got hurt,” Edwards says.
In eighth grade, Edwards broke an ankle near the end of football season, forcing him to miss the upcoming basketball season. After that, it was time to hang up the cleats for good.
“He got huuuuuuuurt,” Jefferson says laughing as his 6-foot-1 frame spreads over the couch.
Edwards believes he could have gone pro in football had he stuck with it. Let Edwards tell it, he can still play in the NFL.
“If I win a ring in the next three to four years,” Edwards says, pausing to emphasize what was coming.
“You’re not going to football,” Jefferson says, shaking his head.
“I’m going to play football,” Edwards continues.
“No, you’re not,” Jefferson says.
“And this gon’ be one of the reasons why — because he think I can’t play football. I’ma come play with you.”
“Watch, he gon’ get hit one time …”
“I’m going to be [doing the hitting], though. I’m going to be playing strong safety.”
Edwards says he would be like Kam Chancellor, the four-time Pro Bowler who helped lead the Seattle Seahawks to a Super Bowl win in 2014. His friends and teammates hear this all the time.
“He said the same thing to me,” Wolves center Naz Reid told me, shaking his head. “He say he could play tennis.”
“I’ve heard he can play in the NFL, MLB, NHL,” Wolves guard Mike Conley said as he rolls his eyes.
“If it was quarterback, he think he’ll be the right-handed Michael Vick,” said Nick Maddox, Edwards’ childhood friend. “If he was going to be a receiver, he’ll mention ‘Megatron’ Calvin Johnson or Julio Jones. Cornerback, you know he gon’ say Deion [Sanders].”
“Punt returner, Devin Hester,” Maddox continued. “You say running back, he gon’ say Adrian Peterson.”
Edwards — at 6-foot-4 and 225 pounds — says he’d be much bigger if he lifted and trained like a football player. He believes several other NBA players could also make the transition: LeBron James, Kawhi Leonard, Marcus Smart, Luguentz Dort and Jalen Suggs.
“Y’all got some athletic guys,” Jefferson concedes for a moment. “But when you put on them shoulder pads and helmet, y’all gon’ get hit and you’ll be like, ‘Oh no. This not for me — back to basketball.'”
“Y’all can’t come play basketball though,” Edwards says.
Jefferson plays pickup basketball in the offseason as a form of cardio, though he tries to stick to shooting to avoid injury. In 2021, a highlight reel of Jefferson went viral, showing he can still get above the rim. He says now he never had the advanced training to work on his handle and the nuances of basketball, but with that proper training, he thinks he could play in the pros.
“I ain’t saying I’m gon’ be the best player in the league,” Jefferson says with his hands extended. “But I’m going to get somewhere.”
Edwards isn’t having it.
“Just off my athletic ability, I’ma score at least …” Jefferson starts.
“Nooo, not in the NBA,” Edwards cuts him off.
“You crazy. You don’t think I’ll get somewhere?” Jefferson says.
“Oh, you’ll be somewhere …” Edwards says. The two share a laugh.
AS JEFFERSON LIT up scoreboards at LSU alongside Joe Burrow and Ja’Marr Chase, and the Tigers’ football team went on a 15-0 title run in 2019, Edwards was taking notice. At the time, he was entering the SEC as a freshman at Georgia, looking to make a mark of his own.
“They went crazy that year,” Edwards recalls. “That’s when he was dancing. I’m like, ‘That’s me if I could play football. I’d be putting on a show in the end zone. I’d be talking trash.'”
As Edwards tells this story, Jefferson begins to flex and slap his bicep with a toothy smile.
“Say it one more time,” Jefferson says.
“Nah, I ain’t gon’ give you too much,” Edwards says.
“Say it one more time.”
“Stand down.”
After winning the national championship, Jefferson declared for the NFL draft as a junior. His combine performance was so impressive, including running the 40-yard dash in 4.43 seconds, that Vikings legend Cris Carter called the front office and told them they needed to draft Jefferson. “I saw all the other receivers there,” Carter said. “I really thought that he had a chance to be the best.”
After the Vikings drafted Jefferson, Carter helped get Jefferson accustomed to Minneapolis. Carter compared the city to the environment at LSU: passionate fans, packed stadiums and a program that produces all-time great wide receivers.
“You know Minnesota’s gonna have receivers,” said Keenan McCardell, the Vikings’ receivers coach and former NFL wideout. “It might be the man upstairs. Pushing ’em all here to play indoors and play fast.”
Still, moving to a new city was not an easy adjustment, especially in April 2020. Most of the country was still restricted by the coronavirus pandemic. That May, George Floyd was murdered by a police officer in Minneapolis, inciting a summer of protests and unrest. “I’m just trying to fit in myself, trying to figure out what was about to go down for our season,” Jefferson says. “We was talking about not even having a season. It was definitely crazy — a crazy time period.”
In the third game of Jefferson’s rookie season, he scored his first touchdown, a 71-yard dash punctuated by the Griddy, his now signature touchdown dance. “He was very excited to show the world the Griddy on the NFL stage,” said his brother Jordan, who played quarterback at LSU from 2008 to 2011. Back when his little brother was in high school, Jordan taught Justin how to be an entertainer on the field. They watched the greats across hoops and football who were known for their alter egos — LeBron James (King James), Kobe Bryant (Black Mamba), Odell Beckham (OBJ) — and how they transformed personas on the field.
“Maybe about a week, two weeks later we had the whole high school calling him J-Jets, J-Jettas, Jets,” Jordan said. “I would describe J-Jets as tenacious, a leader, an entertainer. Someone who knows how to show up when the bright lights come on.”
In 2020, Jefferson broke the single-season rookie record for most receiving yards in the Super Bowl era (1,400) and was named second-team All-Pro. As the season was winding down, he started paying attention to the Wolves and their own rookie sensation, after the team had selected Edwards with the No. 1 pick in the draft. It almost felt like they were destined to be connected.
“I had to tap in and be a fan of him from up close,” Jefferson says. “That’s when it all started for real.”
EDWARDS DIDN’T QUITE explode on the Minnesota scene the way Jefferson did. He initially came off the bench for a team that had finished with the third-worst record in the league the season before. He’d sometimes play 30 minutes, sometimes play 17; he scored 26 points in one January game, then zero points two games later.
“You could just tell how young [Edwards] was,” Reid told me. “He didn’t speak much. He just kind of took [everything] in and learned. It was a lot, but he took it in well.”
After starting the 2020-21 season 7-24, the Wolves fired coach Ryan Saunders. A few days after new coach Chris Finch took over, the team had a road trip with an off day in Washington, D.C., so Finch used the opportunity to set up one-on-one meetings to get to know his players.
Finch remembers a 19-year-old Edwards walking into the room with the same wide smile and gravitational positivity he sees today. Edwards opened up right away about his background and family — how he lost both his mother and grandmother to cancer in the same year in 2015 and how it makes him try to appreciate every day he’s alive.
“I felt for him,” Finch told me. “He was just starting to find his feet in the middle of the season when they made the coaching change. He was a little nervous about how it might affect him. Young player who’s trying to find himself, particularly ones that have the pressure of being a No. 1 pick … they feel maybe the pressure or the need to be everything.”
Finch tried to get Edwards to focus on what he was good at. That meant attacking the basket more frequently, taking fewer pull-up jump shots and creating more catch-and-shoot opportunities to generate easy points. Less than three weeks later, Finch finally saw things click. Edwards scored 42 points in a win against the Suns, becoming the third-youngest player in NBA history to score 40 or more points in a game.
“For the first moment, we could see what the future might look like,” Finch said.
Edwards finished second in Rookie of the Year voting and was named to the All-Rookie first team. He has increased his scoring average every year since, from 19.3 points per game as a rookie to 25.9 last season, when he finished seventh in the MVP voting and made second-team All-NBA. His confidence as a player has never been higher, even if that confidence sometimes plays out in ways that sometimes might irk a coach — such as taking an ill-advised 3-pointer late in a game, instead of managing the clock, just because his opponent made a 3-pointer on the previous play.
“He wasn’t even being reckless,” Finch said. “He was just, like, ‘Oh, well, you punch me, I’m going to punch you back.'”
“He’s real. Not only is he real; people like him. I tell him all the time, ‘You have a personality where everybody wants to follow you. That gives you a leg up on being a great leader.'”
Just like Jefferson, Edwards needed time to adjust to living in Minneapolis, making frequent trips home to Georgia during his first few seasons. But also like Jefferson, he sensed a connection to another rising star in the city who appeared to be going through the same thing. And so Edwards started going to Vikings games, as Jefferson was establishing himself as one of the best receivers in the NFL.
“He was going crazy,” Edwards says. “Then I went to the game when they played the Giants and he was going crazy. So I’m like, ‘Man, I’ve got to be a fan.’ Then he came to one of my games — and we’ve been just locked in ever since.”
BEFORE THERE WAS Ant and JJ, there was KG and Moss. The original magazine shoot took about only 10 minutes, and both legends — Garnett was 23 and Moss 22 at the time — wish they would’ve savored that moment, not knowing they wouldn’t end their careers in Minnesota. “We would’ve probably did a lot more for this photo shoot,” Moss said in 2017.
“And probably a lot more just enjoying each other, enjoying the city because it was some great days — it wasn’t all bad,” Garnett said.
“We were able to just support one another, that was the biggest thing,” Moss said. “You come to my games, I come to your games.”
Today, their photo looms over Edwards and Jefferson, as the two Minnesota stars open up on what their predecessors meant to them and the state. “The Minnesota greats,” Jefferson says. “They definitely had Minnesota on lockdown. We’re the two next ones for sure.”
“KG, the best Minnesota basketball player of all time. And right now, I’m trying to go for that,” Edwards says. “And Randy, I mean, I like [Adrian Peterson], too, but Randy’s the best. JJ trying to go for that.”
Edwards got to know Moss mostly through playing Madden. Jefferson used to watch YouTube videos of Moss’ highlight-reel catches and then would try to mimic them on the field.
“He’s doing nothing but verticals,” Jefferson says. “Seeing that as a little kid and going out there, trying to do the same thing. I’m trying to Moss little kids as well. Even still today, you know, kids are still saying, ‘Oh, you got Mossed,’ or, ‘I Mossed you.'”
“Yeah, that name is gonna stick around forever,” Edwards says. “But I love his celebrations. He made me wanna play football so I could celebrate. And then, I mean, I like to talk trash, so I love KG. He talked a lot of trash. That’s the same way I am. We’re the same person.”
Edwards caught the ire of Garnett this summer after telling The Wall Street Journal that Michael Jordan was the only player with skills during his era. Legends such as Isiah Thomas and Magic Johnson fired back at Edwards. Garnett took exception, too, questioning whether players of the current generation could have played in the more physically demanding game of the 1990s.
“You got to know what you’re talking about to be in the argument or discussion of what we’re talking about,” Garnett said during an appearance on the “All The Smoke” podcast. “I root for you, young fella, but know what you’re talking about, young fella, because [what] you said don’t make no sense.”
When I bring this up on set, Edwards shifts forward in his seat. He says players such as Garnett could have played in any era but also reiterates his belief in the skill level of the current NBA; he thinks today’s players would have succeeded against the previous generation, no matter how much more physical they might have been.
That’s when Jefferson slightly eggs him on.
“What, you think you would of went for if you were in that generation?” Jefferson asks, rubbing his hands together.
“I would’ve been …” Edwards starts. The two share a laugh. “They gon’ hate me again when I say this — I already know it.”
“I would’ve been the guy that could match up with MJ. That would have been me. I would’ve been that guy that would’ve been guarding him, scoring back on him. I would’ve been that guy.”
“I could see that,” Jefferson says. “That’s already been the matchup.”
Edwards has drawn comparisons to a young Jordan — they share similar athleticism, fearlessness and confidence on the court. Of course, Jordan had won an MVP award and averaged better than 30 points per game in multiple seasons by the time he reached this point in Edwards’ career. Still, there are some Edwards highlights in which the likeness is impossible to deny.
“Some of the stuff he does, you’d be thinking like, ‘Dang, that’s what MJ does,'” Jaden McDaniels says. He mentions the online jokes that say Edwards is MJ’s son. “It’s like, ‘Bruh, you’re not beating them allegations. You a little Michael Jordan for real.’ How he so athletic dunking on folks … or he’ll pull up [for a jump shot] and be hanging in the air, like, ‘Bruh, what is you doing?'”
As for the Jefferson and Moss comparisons, Jefferson is quick to note how much the game has changed. “You put Randy in our scheme now, he definitely would’ve went crazy,” he says. “They [didn’t] even throw the ball that much, and see how many yards Jerry Rice had. It’s kind of scary.
“Playing 17, 18, 19 years in the NFL is something that’s unheard of,” Jefferson says, clapping his hands together. “It’s going to be tough. But I’m going for it.”
It’s a frequent topic of conversation between Jefferson and McCardell at practice sessions. McCardell’s career spanned 16 seasons in the NFL, and he wants to pass along to Jefferson how to make the game easier later in his career when he’s less dominant physically. “We talk about playing on and on and on and being one of the greats like Jerry,” McCardell said. “Because [Jefferson] loves to play football like Jerry.”
One thing becomes clear as Jefferson and Edwards turn the conversation toward their legacies: Whatever their reverence for those who came before them, the two will forever be connected by their ambition to do things their own way.
“I feel like in order for us to follow those footsteps, we got to do the same thing,” Edwards says. “We’re going to be a little more swaggy.”
“Put our own lil’ sauce to it,” Jefferson says. “Little bit more style, little bit more flavor. I think ours is going to be a little bit better — especially the way we end our careers.”
NOBODY SAW IT coming.
At 5-1, the Vikings have one of the best records in the NFL, even though expectations were low coming into the season. Longtime starting quarterback Kirk Cousins went to the Falcons in the offseason, and his would-be replacement, first-round pick J.J. McCarthy, suffered a season-ending injury in the preseason. So the Vikings turned to journeyman Sam Darnold and named him a captain alongside Jefferson, who told his new quarterback to play with swagger. Darnold has done exactly that: He has emerged as an unlikely MVP candidate, in no small part because Jefferson has also been on fire, scoring touchdowns in five of his team’s first six games.
“I have to be a leader, the captain of the team,” says Jefferson, who signed a four-year, $140 million extension in June. “I have to make sure those guys are ready to go out there and have the confidence to throw me a ball — even when I’m not fully open.”
“Hey, what you say your quarterback’s name was?” Edwards asks.
“Sam,” Jefferson says.
“Don’t be scared to throw my boy the ball, man,” Edwards says, pointing to the camera. “If he got two people on him.”
Jefferson laughs: “Oh, you ain’t got to tell him that.”
“I’m going to come out there, man,” Edwards says. “If you don’t throw him the ball …”
For Jefferson, setting an example starts with the way he practices. Jefferson and Trishton Jackson, a close friend and teammate, started a tradition called “no-gloves Friday” in which they go through receivers drills without gloves and see who has the fewest drops. They’d routinely leave with their hands red, especially with Cousins.
“Some leaders talk, but he’s the opposite,” Jackson says. “He shows through actions.”
The Vikings hope their fast start will translate to their first playoff victory since 2019. The team has never won a Super Bowl but has the highest winning percentage and most playoff appearances of any team that hasn’t won the ultimate prize.
“The best part about it is we’re not getting talked about a lot,” Jefferson says. “When you’re sneaking in for the silent kill and they don’t see it coming — that’s the best part about it.”
Speaking of not seeing it coming, on the eve of training camp, the Wolves shocked fans by trading away Karl-Anthony Towns, the four-time All-Star who was with the organization for nine years. Still, the Wolves won’t have the luxury of sneaking up on teams this season after winning 56 games, the second most in franchise history, and making the Western Conference finals for the second time in team history. The only other season in which they’ve won a playoff series was when they reached the conference finals in 2003-04, the same season Garnett won MVP.
“I feel like it’s going to put a lot more pressure on us,” Edwards says about the success of last season. “Once you perform like that you can’t not make it to the playoffs or get knocked out in the first round. You got to mature.
“Last year, we could compete with anybody, but I wasn’t good at closing the games out. Whether it’s taking a shot or passing the ball. This year, I got to come in willing to close the games out.”
Edwards has said he lost a brother in Towns, but he understands the league is a business. The franchise is handing the keys over to Edwards, who is entering the first season of his five-year contract extension that’s worth up to $260 million. The Edwards era in Minnesota has officially arrived.
His teammates have seen a renewed commitment since he returned home with a gold medal from the Paris Olympics. Edwards has been working out at the team’s facility since mid-August, more than a month ahead of training camp, and he has been showing teammates what he learned in Europe. At a summer scrimmage, for example, Conley says he was so shocked that Edwards made a backdoor cut to the basket for an easy layup that he stopped the game — he has been trying to get Edwards to make backdoor cuts for two years.
“He’s like, ‘Man, I’m telling you, USA basketball, you had to pass and cut, it wasn’t like you was getting the ball every time,'” Conley recalls with a smile. “I’m like, ‘I’m just so proud of you.’ … I’ve never seen him more focused on the little things.”
It’s just one reason Conley believes Edwards is ready to be the face of the franchise.
“There’s a little bit of ignorance to it — where he doesn’t know everything,” Conley says. “This is new to him, to be considered one of those guys. To be as visible. So with that, he’s a guy that he’s himself the entire time. He doesn’t have to mold into somebody he’s not in order to be this guy. So, I think it’s going to be easy for him because he’s like, ‘I’m just going to wear a hoodie to a Netflix premiere.'”
That’s just who Edwards is.
JEFFERSON BURSTS out laughing.
We’ve started playing Uno, which, of course, began with a very, uh, spirited discussion over the rules: Keep pulling cards until you can play. You can respond to a Draw 2 or Draw 4 by stacking another on top of it and the next person has to draw double the amount.
After seeing his hand and also seeing a red No. 9 flipped over to start the game, Edwards asks about a different rule, “Can we put 6s on 9s and 9s on 6s?”
“What type of rules is that?” Jefferson says. “I ain’t never heard that rule.”
Edwards insists he never played the game much growing up. Meanwhile, Jefferson would play with his brothers all the time; they’d wager $1 or, if they wanted to up the stakes, make the losers do 10 pushups. “I thought I gave you a good hand,” Jefferson says.
“Nah, you tried to give me a whole bunch of colors,” Edwards says. He pulls a card from the deck and peers again at it face up on the pile, “That’s a 9, right?”
Despite the rules being set to not stack numbers, Jefferson throws a set of 2s down at some point. Edwards, at another point, refuses to keep drawing cards if he doesn’t have anything to play.
“Aye, I’d rather cheat than repeat,” Edwards says with a smile. “Remember that.” He lays down a Draw 4 card on Jefferson, who tries to respond with a Draw 2.
“Nah, you can’t add that, big dawg,” Edwards says. “Ain’t no way you can do that one, Jack.”
“I mean, you making up yo own rules,” Jefferson says with a sheepish smile as he starts pulling from the deck. “I had to make up mine.”
Edwards changes the color to green, but I think I have him set up. I lay down my Draw 4, call Uno and confidentially change the color to yellow.
But Edwards stacks with a second Draw 4. Uno. Eight cards to Jefferson.
Dang.
“Wooooooww,” Jefferson says.
I don’t have any green cards. So, I start pulling and pulling and pulling. Edwards thinks this rule is dumb, “That is the craziest way to play Uno I have ever seen in my life.” I’m still searching for a green.
“You ’bout to pick up eight, too,” Jefferson says.
“Bruh, you can’t keep pulling cards,” Edwards says while I come up empty. I draw another 10 cards before I helplessly throw down a green card.
“Uno out, man.” Of course, Edwards wins. “I ain’t played Uno since Bruce Lee died, and I won.” It’s a quick card game, but one that sparks their competitive juices. They plan to hang out more in the future — play some video games together at the very least.
“I don’t play [NBA] 2K, but we can play Madden,” Edwards says.
“Why you don’t play 2K?” Jefferson asks.
“I ain’t playing till I’m a 99,” Edwards says, referring to his overall rating in the NBA game. He’s currently a 94.
“Straight up,” Jefferson laughs, and they dap each other up. “I feel you.”
“After this year, maybe,” Edwards says.
It’s a subtle reminder that these young superstars haven’t yet reached their peak. At the end of the day, Jefferson and Edwards sign each other’s jerseys. Jefferson takes the black No. 5 Wolves jersey home, while Edwards adds the No. 18 Vikings jersey to his collection.
“You ever need a strong safety, let me know,” Edwards says to Jefferson.
“You know how we gon’ know you serious?” Jefferson says. “When you take that first lick coming up the middle. You and whoever.”
“Me and Derrick Henry,” Edwards deadpans.
“WHAAAT?!” Jefferson says.
Through all the jokes about who can play whose sport, or who can play in what generation, it’s clear, as they finally walk off the set, what truly connects the two. There’s a reason they wanted to recreate the Moss-Garnett photo, and it’s not just reverence for the past. It’s about their desire to create their own legacy, to be so great that the next generation wants to recreate their photo.
“Everywhere I go I want to leave an impact,” Jefferson tells me. “Little kids look up to you and wanting to be the next big thing — the next big Anthony Edwards or the next big Justin Jefferson.”
Video producers: Luis Aldea and Justin Bey. Video editor: Amanda C. Winkler. Wardrobe styling and grooming by Darnell Booker. Production by Bobbi Peacock and Franny Legge.
Anthony Edwards: Jacket, pants and glasses by Adidas, shirt by Marni, boots by Prada and jewelry by AE5 Enterprises
Justin Jefferson: Jeans, shirt and shoes by Amiri, sunglasses by Oakley and jewelry by Lake Side Diamond